The new adventures of Harry Potter and Ron
by Friends With Words
Summary: Harry Potter let out an indulgent sigh of contentment. Finally, after years of balls-to-the-wall adventures, he was now able to relax in his soft leather armchair and enjoy a lovely record and a spot of tea. Relax with Harry in this brand new adventure!
1. Prologue: A Storm is Brewing

**HARRY POTTER  
>The adventures of Harry Potter and Ron and some others<strong>

In an effort to cash in on the lucrative Harry Potter market and add to the exciting range of "unofficial" Potter books being released in India, I've started writing a Harry Potter book of my own, (for release in India). It's designed to continue on from the eighth and final book in the trilogy, and as such, will be a must have item for your collection.

WARNING: I have never read a Harry Potter book, so certain names, events, places, characteristic reactions to events, and general accuracies may be inconsistent with prior novels in the series.

**Prologue****: A Storm is Brewing**

Harry Potter let out an indulgent sigh of contentment. Finally, after seven or eight years of balls-to-the-wall adventures, he was now able to relax in his soft leather armchair and enjoy a lovely record and a spot of tea.

He removed his antiquated round spectacles and rubbed his weary brow with his thumb and forefinger. His life had reached its inevitable peak and he was now free to ride the soothing waves of respite down the slippery slope of degeneration that heralds the onset of adulthood. It was great. Perhaps too great, it seemed. For what was an aging wizard to do with his magical skills in a world with so few Voldemorts left to engage in combat with?

It was a question for his memoirs.

He cracked open a large, leather-bound book and dipped his ever-present, old fashioned quill pen into a container of ink. The pure, untouched page beckoned to his young imagination, the tales of his derring-do virtually pouring from the vibrant recesses of his powerful brain. Touching the quill to the page, he began to write.

_Harry Potter's Memoirs: An explosive life of action and explosions_

_Finally, after seven or eight years of balls-to-the-wall adventures, I am no longer burdened with the heavy weight of my fateful destiny. I can laugh and be myself. I can enjoy the company of others. Have you ever tried to laugh at the simple happenings that occur when you enjoy the company of others? I have. Did I tell you about the time I put a live grenade in my good friend Ron's pants?_

_It all began in the Stone Age, when dinosaurs roamed the Earth -_

Suddenly there was a quick rap on the door, followed by the hesitant voice of his foster father asking whether he was interested in heading down to the hardware store to hang out with builders and tradesmen. Ever since Harry had beaten their retarded son Allan to death with a plank of wood, his foster parents had become especially timid in their co-interactions, often leaving the room when he entered and sleeping with a large musket within easy reach of the bed.

Harry, irritated that he had been interrupted during his writing time, replied with a stern "no", and indicated that he was enjoying a good record and a spot of tea.

The door opened anyway, and who should pop in, but spritely young Ron Weasly. That's who.

"'allo 'arry," said Ron, who was something of an English lad, "What in the bleedin' jillipers 'ave you been up to? You tosspot." He made an obscene gesture.

Harry hated Ron immensely, but was careful not to show it. "Ron. Hello." He responded, stiffly. "I suppose you could say I'm recovering from our last harebrained adventure," he gestured around his tiny room, located directly under his foster parent's stairs, "As you can see, I'm writing my memoirs."

Ignoring any further interaction with Ron, Harry returned to his writing.

_He could be a generous taskmaster. Yet sometimes he made me feel like a woman; powerless and unproductive. I shook my head as though to relieve myself of the memory of his large clammy hands and hairy beard. Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight? I have. Once. It was 1962 and the Romans had recently occupied Japan -_

"I've come to tell you 'arry," Ron interrupted rudely, realising Harry would continue writing indefinitely, "'agrid's looking for you."

Harry let his quill fall to the paper. _His old friend, Agrid!_

"Ah," he mused, "perhaps a storm is brewing…"


	2. Chapter 1: A Dire Circumstance

**Chapter 1: A Dire Circumstance**

***NOTE*** If any of the characters appearing in this new Harry Potter adventure have died previously during the course of Harry's adventures, I'm sorry. I have no explanation for this. Please don't tell me which ones die though, I might see the movies one day.***END OF NOTE***

Harry sighed and switched off his Xbox 360. If what Ron was telling him was correct, then Hagrid wanted to see him at Hogwart's, the magic school, (where they learn magic). He cast his mind back to the last time he had returned to Hogwarts, bright-eyed and eager, a young student of the arcane arts. He thought of all his old friends: Ron, Snape, and maybe some others. Would they have changed? Would they still remember him - Harry Potter, the teenage ragamuffin? And what of Dumbledore?

"'arry you daft blighter," Ron shook him from his musings, "You look like you've seen a bleedin' dementor. Get a leg on, we don't want to keep 'agrid waitin'"

Harry shook his head and returned to the present. Ron was staring at him blankly. Oh how he wanted to stick his magical wand square in Ron's neck.

But that would have to wait.

"Before we go Ron, I have to ask you something…" Harry hesitated, clearly embarrassed.

"Wot?" said Ron.

"I haven't heard from Hermione for months…I just wondered," Harry looked down, avoiding Ron's vacuous gaze, "how's she..you know...doing?"

Ron looked away, just long enough to reveal that something was wrong. "She's fine 'arry," he said, attempting to be cheerful, "let's go see Hagrid."

They zipped up their leather jackets and mounted their broomsticks. Harry took special pride in the fact that his broomstick was better than Ron's. If Ron was jealous, he tried not to show it. But Harry secretly knew that Ron would fly over to Harry's house every night and sit outside in the cold, peering through the window, trying to get a glimpse of Harry's broomstick. That was why he always looked so tired.

The journey to Hogwarts was a wonderful spectacle, filled with adventure and amazing sights that no mere muggle would ever get to see. Harry cast a _Hasten Time_ spell so the whole thing was over in mere seconds, much to Ron's irritation.

At last Hogwart's School of Wizardry loomed before them, looking just as Harry remembered from his youth one year ago. "It's beautiful" he whispered in awe as tears streamed down his face.

"Look! There's 'agrid now, the great bastard," Ron pointed down to a large figure signalling them from the ground, "Lets land and see what he wants."

"Hagrid!" cried Harry. He set his broomstick down in a hurry and bounded over to hug his big, bearded friend. Harry hadn't seen Hagrid for quite some time, but he would never forget all that his old friend had done for him over the years. Hagrid too was always happy to see Harry, though he tried not to show it for fear of being laughed at by Ron. They shared a brief moment before Hagrid cleared his throat and frowned.

"Harry, I'm afraid we've happened upon a dire circumstance."


	3. Chapter 2: A Tender Homecoming

**Chapter 2: A Tender Homecoming**

At Hagrid's suggestion, the three of them made their way through the grand gates of Hogwarts to see their wise friend and mentor, Dumbledore. The musty air and stale odour of Hogwarts reminded Harry of the years he spent locked up in the basement, guarded day and night by Snape, the Potions teacher played by Alan Rickman. He had grown fond of his fatherly captor and today they shared a bond earned through years of comradeship and playing poker through the iron bars of his tiny cell.

'I'm the half blood prince.' Snape would tell him earnestly, taking Harry's hand and imploring him to listen.

'Whatever,' Harry would reply nonchalantly and sometimes flip him the bird.

_How he missed Snape terribly!_ His heart began to soar at the mere thought of seeing him again, that dour face and demeanour sending shivers of hope and inspiration down his spine.

They approached Dumbledore's office and Hagrid flung the door from its hinges. Dumbledore, startled, took off his sunglasses and regarded them with interest.

"Oh Hagrid," said Dumbledore, "You do know how to make an entrance, don't you?" He started to laugh, his shoulders heaving up and down in time with his raucous laughter. Hagrid threw his head back and also let out a loud bellowing laugh. They all began to laugh.

After a few minutes the laughter subsided.

"Harry, it's been a long time since I've seen you," Dumbledore regarded Harry with warm respect, having fought alongside him on many occasions.

Harry appeared agitated. "Look at me!" he screamed.

"I am! I am looking at you! Jesus Christ!" yelled Dumbledore. He turned to Ron. "Young Weasley, I see you've grown into a pale, red-headed English prat. I must say, I'm hardly surprised."

"Thankyou sir," said Ron eagerly, thankful for any attention from Dumbledore.

"And where, pray tell, is miss Hermio-" Began Dumbledore before catching himself, clearly remembering something important. Hagrid, looked down at the ground, and Ron turned to the window, staring vacantly out at the surrounding forest.

Harry looked at all three of them in turn before realizing something was amiss. "Dumbledore, answer me this one question." He demanded.

Dumbledore sighed. He knew what was coming. "Of course Harry," he answered out of respect.

Harry took a deep breath. "Dumbledore, why is every student at this school white? I haven't seen a black, Asian or Hispanic face in the eight years I've been coming here. It's like we live in an alternate Anglo-centric reality. Don't you think a little diversity would go a long way in educating our children about the world, especially as this is such a popular title among pre-teens?"

Dumbledore was a little surprised. "Oh, I thought you were going to ask something else," he replied.

"Why? What else would I possibly want to ask right now? Don't try and avoid the question, Dumbledore." Harry couldn't for the life of him think of any other pressing matters at this particular junction in time.

"Well, I suppose I did enrol that half-Asian student at one time. What was her name…China Chang or something?" Dumbledore attempted to justify his discriminatory selection policies.

"Ching-Chong-Chang!" said Ron, terribly excited now.

"Yes that's it!" Exclaimed Dumbledore, "Ching-Chong-Chang-Chingy-Chong-Chan!" He burst out laughing.

Ron began to bang his hands on the table. "Bruce Lee China Chang Chongy Daniel-san!" He screamed. Dumbledore gave him a high-five.

Harry wasn't entirely impressed with their comedy. He looked around the room. "By the way, where's Hermione?" He asked. The thought had just occurred to him.

Ron and Dumbledore went silent. Hagrid looked back down at his giant feet.

"She's gone, 'arry," Ron spoke at last, "She was out practicing her magic in the forest when she was taken by the centaurs. 'agrid saw the whole thing."

"Ay, tis true lad. There wasn't a thing I could do. Word is that all these rumours going around have gotten the centaurs spooked. They'll attack any form of magic they see." Hagrid pointed out the window towards the forest. "That's where it happened…" he said ominously, "In the forest."

Harry looked out towards the dark, looming wall of forest that threatened to encroach upon the prissy, _Polo Sport_ wearing, private college grounds of Hogwarts.

He knew his destiny lay beyond those trees.


	4. Chapter 3: A Mysterious Companion

**Chapter 3: A Mysterious Companion**

Hagrid, Ron and Harry stood before the enormous twisted trees of Dumbledark forest, silently daring each other to be the first to enter its blighted realm. Harry knew in his heart that it was his duty, and his alone, to rescue his cousin Hermione. So he made sure Ron and Hagrid came along too.

Suddenly there was a cry from behind. They turned to find a figure, cloaked entirely in black, sprinting up the path from Hogwart's, directly towards them. Harry quickly readied a _magic missile_.

"Hey you guys!" called the figure, "Wait for me." It drew back its hood to reveal a pasty, blonde-faced young man with an apparent eating disorder and an annoying, prick-like complexion.

"Bollocks." Said Ron in disgust, "It's Malfoy."

"That's Malfoy to you," retorted Malfoy, clearly mishearing Ron.

"Why are you here Malfoy?" Asked Harry, "I almost killed you with my _magic missile_ spell." Harry appeared momentarily embarrassed. "While I have greater spells in my repertoire, such as _fireball_ and _Otto's Irresistible Irish Jig_, I find that _magic missile _is highly effective against a single opponent." Harry took out his 20 sided die. "If I was to have cast _magic missile_ at you, by adding my To-Hit-Armour-Class-0 (THAC0) value and subtracting your Armour Class, I would have done…" Harry rolled his dice, "22 hit-points worth of damage. You'd be dead I imagine."

"True, I most likely would be dead had I not cast a _Minor Globe of Invulnerability_ before I left Hogwarts. Therefore I would have a saving throw against your _magic missile_, and a chance to halve the damage caused," Malfoy produced a 12 sided die and rolled it on the ground, "See there! I escaped with only 12 points of damage. I would be just barely alive, though in severe pain."

Ron stepped forward. "According to my Initiative value of 17 it would be my turn next," he said.

Harry knew Ron didn't have a very large repertoire of spells at his disposal.

"Choosing from my vast array of first-level spells, I would choose to cast _Make Friends with Animals_," Ron chose an inappropriate spell. He rolled a four sided dice.

"Your spell has no effect." Malfoy grinned through the seared flesh and bloody face wound left behind by the hypothetical _magic missile_. "It's my turn now. I choose to cast _Power-Word-Kill._"

Hagrid sighed. "Malfoy, you don't even know _Power-Word-Kill_, that's a ninth level spell." Hagrid was referring to the high level spell that allowed the user to kill an opponent instantly, with the power of a word. "Only Dumbledore knows that. I saw him use it once on the large assortment of cats he enrolled by accident one summer." Hagrid's brow furrowed and his eyes glazed as though he was remembering something deeply disturbing.

Ron cast _Make Friends with Animals _on him, returning him to the present instantly through sheer irritation.

"When you people are finished playing _Dungeons and Dragons_, you might remember we have a princess to rescue!" With that Hagrid strode towards the forest, crossing the threshold between the light, airy grounds of Hogwarts, and the horrors of Dumbledark forest.

Ron, Harry and Malfoy rushed to catch up.


	5. Chapter 4: A Tense Situation

**Chapter 4: A Tense Situation**

*NOTE* Due to popular demand, chapter 5 has a lesser reliance on obscure Dungeons and Dragons references and jokes at the expense of long-suffering underdog, Ron. Instead there will be more introspective moments from the point of view of Hagrid and less overall content. Thank you. *END NOTE*

Upon entering Dumbledark forest, Harry immediately regretted his decision to wear his Sunday best. He envied Hagrid's tattered rags and Ron's spandex, which allowed him to move freely as though he was wearing nothing at all. Harry pictured Ron wearing nothing at all and shuddered. He hurried to catch up to Hagrid, who was powering ahead.

Hagrid's large stride distance covered six metres to Harry's one, making Hagrid the faster of the two. Secretly, Harry wished HE was the faster of the two.

Harry looked up to regard the dark, twisted trees looming above. Their tangled branches intertwined with each other, forming strong wooden bonds which shut out any hint of sunlight from the sky above. It was impossible to tell night from day, though most of them knew it was still day, except for Ron who remarked that the last seven hours felt like five minutes and wondered if the forest had magical properties. The ground underfoot felt damp and earthy and other descriptive words.

"Oh dear," squealed Malfoy, suddenly.

Hagrid, Harry and Ron turned to him, startled.

"What did you see!" demanded Hagrid, frantically looking around for any sign of impending centaur attack.

"There's a dreadful amount of moss in this forest," Malfoy was looking at the ground around his feet, "I'm deathly afraid of moss you know."

"Moths?" said Ron. "Wot you afraid of them for? They can't hurt you."

"No. MOSS." Corrected Malfoy.

"Moss? That's even more pathetic then, innit." Ron had a good laugh at Malfoy's expense. "You're just a miserable little pillington soaked, tit-headed pilchard."

Malfoy began to cry.

"That's enough Ron," chided Harry, "Now look what you've gone and done. He's crying."

Malfoy slumped to his knees, his body wracked by the sobs of one cursed by a situation he is not equipped to handle. He threw his head back and screamed at the sky in tormented anguish.

"Jesus Christ. He's flying off the handle!" Hagrid backed up a step or two, crushing some moss underfoot.

Harry Potter, being the only calm head in most tense situations, knew he would have to find a way of sedating Malfoy before the noise brought an army of the undead to their location. He would need to be diplomatic and persuasive so as not to hurt Malfoy's tender pride.

Harry picked up a large tree branch and smashed Malfoy upside the head with it, cleanly knocking him unconscious.

"Hagrid, can you carry this whining little prat?"

Hagrid picked up Malfoy's prone carcass and slung it over his shoulder. "Easy as carrying a bunch of wilted pansies," he said, slyly insulting Malfoy by referring to him analogically as a pansy, (an especially timid species of flower).

They continued their journey into the heart of the forest.


	6. Chapter 5: A Terrifying Confrontation

**Chapter 5: A Terrifying Confrontation**

Grimble the Centaur watched the trio of four from the behind the cover offered by the twisted trees of Dumbledark forest. He stood steadfast and silent, watching, waiting and wondering why his forest home had been given such a poor name. _Dumbledark Forest_.

Christ. It was as though some ignoramus had just taken Dumbledore's name and replaced 'dore' with 'dark'. Disgraceful.

But there were more important matters at hand.

The half-giant, Hagrid, accompanied by three scrawny children, was invading his forest, no-doubt in search of the girl whom his tribe had captured and eaten earlier in the week. From the looks of it, it would take a vast army of their most hardy centaur warriors to defeat the children's magical battle spells and robust servant.

He would have to think of a more diplomatic way to deal with these heroic warriors.

Fortunately, Grimble was one of the smartest centaurs available. He had already devised a cunning plan to lure them into the jaws of a terrible trap. By parlaying with the tiny children, he would convince them to follow him to the centaur camp by offering a glorious feast of bacon. Before they could reach the bacon however, they would fall prey to a hideous dragon which had agreed to help Grimble in exchange for a glorious feast of bacon. It was a brilliant, yet costly plan. His tribe had been hunting wild pigs for three months to prepare enough bacon for the feast, and they were thoroughly exhausted. His mind deviated to the tribe for a moment, and a tear rolled down his face.

He wiped it away briskly with a cloven hoof. There was no time for weakness. Grimble emerged from his hiding place and galloped forward to meet his enemy.

Ron, catching wind of an approaching presence, turned in surprise.

"'arry!" Squealed Ron, "it's one of them Centaurs wot we've been after!" Ron readied a _Make Friends with Animals_ spell. Much to his surprise, Harry and Hagrid continued walking, seemingly unperturbed by the impending confrontation. Panicking at the Disco, Ron dropped his cheap, two-dollar store wand on the ground where it instantly blended in with other sticks and the lush undergrowth.

"Bollocks." Said Ron. It occurred to him that Harry Potter was probably listening to his IPod at an unsafe decibel level and was unable to hear him. Hagrid was most likely lost in his own thoughts, perhaps thinking about dinner.

The centaur loomed before him, it's piercing red eyes staring into his very soul.

It was up to Ron to deal with the monster himself.


	7. Chapter 6: A Devious Stranger

**Harry Potter: Chapter Six  
>A Devious Stranger<strong>

Ron stared at Grimble, unaware of the best way to deal with a menacing centaur.

"Hark! Who goes there?" queried Ron.

The last time he had been approached by a centaur was on April Fools Day in March of 1999. Six of his friends had dressed up in elaborate centaur costumes and convinced him they were outcasts looking for a new tribe and could they have six thousand dollars please. Ron took pity on them and allowed them to take possession of his Beverly Hills mansion and fleet of luxury cruise liners to facilitate the creation of a new centaur clan, unaware that they were not, in fact, centaurs.

The centaur glared at him.

Ron decided to talk to Grimble as he would any other of his close friends in an attempt to break the ice. "Sometimes when I'm feeling lonely I open all the windows in my house and walk around naked, secretly hoping that street vagrants and derelicts can see me". This intimate confession had worked well for him over the years.

The centaur appeared satisfied. "This is an effective ice-breaker. Pleased to meet you, little hobbit. I'm the one they call Grimble." Grimble bent down on one knee, a centaur bow that approximated a human handshake. Ron reciprocated with a brief curtsey.

"The way ahead is fraught with peril," warned Grimble, "Come let me show you a safe shortcut through these troublesome woods." The centaur gestured toward a small path leading to the north, veiled by the lush undergrowth and damp moss that coated the forest floor.

Ron looked at the path with suspicion. "It looks suspicious," he said, his brow furrowed in suspicion.

"Ah, but allow me to allay your fears," spoke Grimble smoothly, with the practiced tongue of a seasoned liar, "For at the end of our path lies a delicious feast of bacon."

"Bacon!" Enthused Ron. "Okay, let 'me' go tell my friends". He made quote fingers around the word _me_, adding an unnecessary level of ambiguity to his sentence.

IPod in hand, Harry Potter was being happily entranced by the soft, elegant lyrics of _Shaggy_, when Ron appeared in front of him, clearly and visibly excited.

"'arry! 'agrid!" Ron explained that he had made a friend who wanted to lead them on a sketchy looking trail, for vague reasons under the obvious pretense of giving them a clearly fabricated meal of bacon.

Harry thought for a second. "It seems like our best option," he decided, slowly nodding his head.

Malfoy began to stir, immediately becoming alarmed at being carried over Hagrid's shoulder like a white, pasty sack of English private school git.

"I must say, this isn't the fashion to which I've grown accustomed to travelling," he complained, struggling to lift his head. "Ack!" He suddenly caught sight of Grimble, standing patiently at the entrance to the path, "it's one of THEM!"

"One of wh-"began Harry before going silent, "Oh…"

The others stood around nervously. Everyone had gone silent, looking at each other awkwardly.

Finally Harry turned and tentatively addressed Malfoy. "Uh, you're not a…a, uh…you know. Look I'll just ask you straight out. You're not a racist are you Malfoy?"

"No." Malfoy looked embarrassed. "I just mean it's one of them that took Hermione. Not, you know…one of THEM."

"Oh okay, good." Harry laughed nervously, "just because of the implicit connotations of that sentence. And your hideous blonde complexion, and the swastika tattoo on your back. You just had us worried for a second there buddy." The others laughed nervously as the tension began to clear from the air.

"Well what are we waiting for!" said Ron enthusiastically, "Our magical feast awaits us." And with that he set off down the path with Grimble, a spring in his step and a song in his heart.

The others looked at each other and shrugged, then rushed to catch up.


	8. Chapter 7: Tragedy Strikes

**Chapter 7****: Tragedy Strikes **

The boys trudged through the thick undergrowth, following Grimble as he picked a path known only to the inhabitants of Dumbledark forest. The hours turned into days, the days turned into months, and the months turned into decades. Harry sighed loudly. It felt as though they had been travelling forever, though he knew in his heart it had only been decades.

As the time passed Harry began to forget why they had set out upon this quest in the first place, though Ron was quick to remind him that it was because he was gay.

Harry knew this wasn't the reason at all. They were on a quest to rescue his childhood sweetheart and cousin, Hermon, from the clutches of a cannibalistic centaur tribe and were being led into an obvious trap by an exceptionally shady centaur guide. It was remarkably similar to his last quest, which had involved taking a ring to the fiery heart of Mordor and dropping it into a seething lava pool while avoiding an army of orcs led by the evil god, Sauron.

This time however, Harry was forced to bear the burden alone as Sam Gangee was nowhere to be found. He hoped Ron, Hagrid and Malfoy could appreciate the fact that he was bearing the burden alone. He had just started talking to Ron about how alone he felt, when a loathsome stench began to emanate from the forest ahead of them, stopping Hagrid in his tracks and rousing Malfoy from his slumber.

Harry, who had worked at _McDonalds_ during high school, instantly recognized the smell. 'Good lord, that's the unmistakable aroma of charred human flesh!' He exclaimed.

At that moment, Grimble's voice came floating towards them from the darkness ahead. 'We've arrived,' purred the voice, 'as promised, a giant feast of bacon awaits you. Can't you just smell its tender aroma…come. Eat. Before it just gets up and walks right off the table…'

Harry peered into the darkness. He couldn't see the road ahead through the trees, but his instincts told him that something wasn't right. Ron pushed past him, impatiently.

'Hurry up 'arry!' Ron called back, disappearing into the darkness ahead, 'Didn't you hear him? He said we have to hurry before it gets up and walks off the table.'

'Wait, Ron!' Called out Harry, but it was too late. A bloodcurdling scream ripped through the forest from the road ahead, followed by the sound of flesh being torn asunder and the splatter of blood and intestine hitting the ground and surrounding trees.

'Ron!' Hagrid screamed, but was reluctant to follow him into the darkness.

Harry was stunned. As much as he couldn't stand to admit it, Ron was his best and only friend. His mind raced back through all the adventures he had had with Ron: Discovering the Philosopher's Stone, Entering the Chamber of Secrets, Killing the Prisoner of Askaban, Drinking from the Goblet of Fire, Killing the Order of the Phoenix. The list went on. And now his friend was likely dead, insides leaking out onto the forest floor for the birds and vultures to consume.

Harry's knees gave out and he crashed to the ground, his body wracked by sobs. 'Ron, god damn you Ron, you can't skip out on me you bastard. You're going to live, you hear me Ron? You're not getting out of this that easily!' He cried to the heavens, a look of pure anguish twisting his face.

He slammed his fist into the ground and squeezed his eyes shut, remembering the time Ron had got his finger caught in a bowling ball and had been forced to carry it around for three months before finally having the finger amputated and replaced with a piece of chalk. A tear ran down his cheek and stopped at the corner of his mouth. The taste of salt awakened a dormant anger he hadn't felt until now, an anger which seethed and bubbled below the surface, rising up to his brain like a cacophony of murderous rage.

He slowly rose to his feet and turned to face the darkness that had claimed his companion.

'This is for Ron!' He screamed and rushed head first into the forest.

Darkness. And then light.

An unexpected sight greeted him as he passed through the trees. An enormous feast of bacon was laid out on a large wooden table in the centre of a clearing. Sitting at the table was Ron, gleefully stuffing his face with pig carcass. In front of the table was the corpse of an enormous dragon, its blood and intestine splattered across the forest floor.

'Oh there you are 'arry,' called Ron, chewing bacon fat, 'you'd better get a move on or you'll miss out, you cob-nobbled geezer.'

Harry was staring at the slaughtered dragon.

'Oh that.' said Ron 'There was a dragon in the way so I had to kill it.' He continued eating.

Everyone stared at Ron.

Harry walked over to the table and sat down nervously next to him.

'Eat up Harry, or I'll have to KILL you. Heh.' Chuckled Ron.

Harry ate his bacon.


	9. Chapter 8: A Manly Discussion

**Harry Potter: Chapter 8  
><strong>**A Manly Discussion**

Having defeated the dragon and subsequently gorged themselves upon the centaur's bacon, Harry Potter and his comrades kissed Grimble goodbye and once again set off on their dangerous journey deep into the heart of Dumbledark forest.

Picking their way among the twisted roots that bulged through the ground menacingly, like serpentine backs breaking the surface of a storm-wracked ocean, Harry pondered the need for unnecessarily long descriptive metaphors in his favourite books.

''arry,' said Ron, annoyingly pulling Harry from his intellectual musings, 'Have you noticed that, of the four of us, there 'aint none of us a girl.' Ron gestured to all four of them in turn, pointing deliberately at each face individually to illustrate his important point.

'Yes Ron, I know that.'

"Well don't you think that's a bit strange then?' Ron appeared unnaturally confused, as though someone had asked him to explain Darwin's theory of evolution to a fifth grader using only five letter words while dressed in a penguin suit.

'Not really Ron.' These days, nothing could faze Harry. Not even the statistically unlikely fact that they were all men….it was as though he couldn't feel anymore.

'Have you ever had a girlfriend 'arry? You toss headed leer.'

Harry knew that Ron's aggressive name-calling was a mask for the fear and embarrassment that came with broaching the topic of women. Despite this fact, it was still hurtful. 'Yes Ron, once. It was a wonderful time in my life…' Harry wistfully remembered his summer romance, 'I was only an apprentice wizard, a mere fledgling. Hogwarts was becoming increasingly lonely, and I, increasingly in tune with my romantic feelings for –'

'Anyway, Harry, what I was wondering was, have you ever done it with a girl?' Interrupted Ron, rudely.

'Hurry up you two ingrates,' called Hagrid from further up the forest trail, still carrying Malfoy over his shoulder like a large sack of shit.

Harry quickened his pace, as much to catch up with Hagrid as to get away from Ron.

Unfortunately, due to his harried state, he failed to negotiate a particularly nasty serpent-backed root bulge in the undergrowth and caught his foot securely in the hollow between ground and root. Feeling himself falling, he flailed his arms wildly, instinctively looking for a tree branch or safety guard rail to cling onto in an attempt to save himself from plummeting to his likely doom on the ground two feet below him. His life began to flash before his eyes…

He saw his family, his father in particular, doing battle with the evil Voldemort and ultimately being defeated. The image twisted and warped and became the ghastly apparition of his foster family, his retarded brother Allan leering at him from behind a grimy glass window. Allan in turn became Ron, bulging staring eyes and stupefied expression piercing the glass of the window; calling his name; a disembodied head encircling his own with its bubbling inanity. And then the image faded and he saw her, the love of his life, the summer romance that would never end, her loving gaze transfixing him in its warm embrace…

'Grimes 'arry, you've grabbed me jock-eggs!' Squealed Ron, excited.

Harry, shocked out of his regression, looked down to find he had instinctively grabbed onto Ron to steady his fall. Horrified, he wrenched his arm backwards, losing what little balance he had to begin with and pulling Ron violently towards him in the process. Ron crashed headlong into his chest, sending them both tumbling backwards and out of site, stirring up a wild spray of leaves and debris as they cascaded downwards across the sloping forest floor.

Twenty minutes later they came to a sliding halt. Harry sat up on his hands and shook the leaves from his hair. Ron, bleeding from the head, slowly lifted himself up on his elbows. 'Did someone get the number of that bus,' he said, un-funnily.

Harry laughed a little, just to be polite. After all, he knew it was his own fault that they had crashed, with no head protection, through twenty square kilometres of forest to end up bloody and battered, separated from their friends in a dark and unforgiving forest of death.

Ron began to laugh heartily, pleased with the reaction to his bus number joke.

'Ron, sssh,' Harry cautioned. He listened intently to the ambient sounds of the forest surrounding them, alert for any indication of predators, such as lion.

Ron, relaxed and calm, looked at Harry, 'I guess it's just us now 'arry, alone in the wilderness…' he trailed off suggestively.

'That's right Ron,' said Harry.

'Just like _The Hardy Boys_.'

Harry ignored him.

'A boys own adventure,' Ron continued, unperturbed, 'Let's talk about cars and ball sports.'

'I don't have a car. I have a broomstick.' Harry looked at Ron suspiciously. 'And I don't know what you mean by "ball sports"'

'A broomstick hey? What model is it? I've got an FP680143-SFX 6.'Ron beamed with pride.

'I've got a shut-the-hell-up-Ron turbo.'

A sharp crack sounded from the forest. Harry spun around, hastily drawing his wand from its jewel encrusted sheath. Ron leapt up and cowered behind Harry.

The trees surrounding them began to move, their leaves rustling as a ghostly figure stepped from the surrounds to confront them. Ron and Harry gasped in surprise.

There, standing in front of them, was a terrifyingly beautiful woman. She was tall and slender, and much to the boys enjoyment, scantily dressed in brown leather.

'Cor blimey!' Exclaimed Ron, 'it's a Forest Nymph!'

**Stay tuned for Harry Potter and Ron: Chapter 9  
>A Sexual Odyssey<strong>

Will Harry remain faithful to his loyal but slow-witted companion Ron, or be seduced by the alluring evil of the forest nymph?


End file.
